


Black Bayard

by kitsune13tamlin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Go Lion, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Shiro's twin, So can I, because if the writers can hijack the origonal for fun and profit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 05:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13311870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsune13tamlin/pseuds/kitsune13tamlin
Summary: I was writing fics for Shiro-week over on tumblr and well - Ryou slipped in.  I honestly couldn't resist.  Shiro has a twin brother and together they dreamed of sending Takashi to the stars.  His brother never meant for it to happen the way it did - but when it did, you bet your last coin, he wasn't going to stay behind on Earth and abandon his brother to the stars.  Takes place after the Two Minutes and I See A Mirror fics.





	Black Bayard

It was supposed to be a simple diplomatic mission. The other paladins had been down to the planet a half dozen times already in various teams or pairs and there hadn’t been any problems. Hell, Ryou himself had already been down twice

three times if you counted the one that no one other than Coran knew about.

Point was, this was supposed to be an easy set up. A relaxing one.

One that didn’t involve chairs flying at his head.

Ryou ducked and caught the leg of the metal chair as it swung overhead, using the momentum to keep it going back the direction it had just come from before ducking back down behind the overturned table as pellets zipped past and embedded in the table and the wall behind it. Projectiles weren’t as impressive as lasers - but they could still put a huge hole through you and the ones that were currently zipping through the air seemed to leave particularly nasty impacts. Ryou, in something that wasn’t exactly paladin body armor and wasn’t exactly not was suddenly all too aware of the huge swaths of cloth the plating didn’t cover.

“Pidge!” Taka’s voice, off his right shoulder, calm but carrying.

“I’m working on it!” her voice sounded small but annoyed over scared as she punched bodiless keys on her wrist display, upset that anyone was managing to jam her signal to the Castle, even for a brief moment. While she was busy with that however, their only long range weapon was out of action. Ryou hadn’t brought anything with him and Taka’s was just his hand.

Ryou’s was just his hands too.

He had refused the practice training with the others, refused even Allura’s very strong suggestions he at least try using the training bots. He buried himself in his machines instead and let Taka run interference whenever it came up. Not that it came up often. The whole team knew where they’d picked Ryou up, they’d seen the holo posters and the vids. If being forced to fight with his bare hands had scarred him inside the way it had outside - no one was going to push him into practicing more violence.

His time in the Arena had scarred him. But not into pacifism. Or - not for the reasons anyone thought.

“Table?” Taka suggested it and Ryou nodded. The guns had them pinned down, unable to take Takas’s close range fighting to them without risking exposure. But the Shirogane were old hands at taking the fight to the enemy and Pidge was safely tucked in behind a counter.

“On go,” Ryou agreed, forcing is fingers under the bottom lip of the overturned table. He might not have his twins’s strength - but he wasn’t any slouch either and no combat training didn’t mean he hadn’t stepped up his physical game once he’d found his brother again.

“Go!” Short and sharp and they both grunted as the heavy table lifted - and then charged forward with dual yells, picking up alarming speed as it covered the short distance to smash into the rebels that had crashed the negotiations. 

Ryou imagined the sound of pinballs falling.

Except then Taka was in the thick of it, one second slicing through the barrel of a gun, the next coming in sideways off a wall to body slam someone into unconsciousness, the next halfway across the room and airborn. There was a distinct and visceral beauty to the way Taka fought.

And he was also still outnumbered and too many of his opponents still had guns.

It wasn’t as if they were ignoring Ryou either.

The reaction was automatic, catching the barrel of the nearest gun to redirect it into an enemy as he stepped forward and brought his fist around. The aliens on this planet were reptile, elongated snouts and serrated teeth, elegant Gorn Ryou had thought the first time he’d seen them, and Ryou skipped the thick jawline and simply drove his knuckles into the soft throat underneath. Something crunched when he did and the gun went off seconds before he wrenched it away and kicked his already falling opponent clear. Gun in hand, Ryou turned -

they had weapons training at the Garrison. Ryou had earned decent scores on the range, more due to patience and attention to detail than any love or skill with guns. He knew the safety tips and he knew how to aim and pull a trigger.

But it wasn’t where his skill lay. And in a situation this desperate he didn’t have time to half-ass things.

Ryou used the gun like a club and waded into the middle of things, tossing it aside as he went to work with his bare hands.

And that - that was why he didn’t fight. Because he was brutal and vicious and ugly when he used his hands. Because there wasn’t any concept of mercy or holding back damage. Because he was terrifyingly damning good at it and it was only a very short time before the purple blood started to spill onto the floor and against the nearby wall.

The energy of it, the raw thriving drive of the fight, spilled up inside of him, the very opposite of a tub with its plug pulled and Ryou let it come. Of course he should hold it back. Of course he should leash it. Of course he should control it in front of his brother. In front of the youngest Holt. Except he didn’t. 

Because he enjoyed it.

It took no time at all to find himself back to back with his brother and then things really fell into a rhythm that felt like an old dream or a well worn route home at the end of the day. Taka’s blows were clean, precise, almost surgical. Ryou’s were dirty and messy. And the bodies fell around them while they cut through the rebels and blocked access to Pidge. Ryou didn’t feel any regret or guilt over it.

And that was probably his most damning sin of them all.

By the time the guards arrived, belatedly Ryou thought, either because they were scared or paid, there wasn’t anything to defend the Voltron team from. Most of Taka’s opponents would live. 

Most of Ryou’s probably wouldn’t.

It was easy to pick out who had fallen victim to which twin in the carnage.

And that was why Ryou didn’t fight, not even as training. Because he knew what his beaten opponents looked like already - and he didn’t regret a second of it. 

The only guilt he felt was over his complete lack of feeling guilt.

They’d chosen to attack him, threaten him and people he cared about and he’d put them down like rabid dogs. Somewhere in there, in all of that, there was supposed to be room for seeing things from the other side, for empathy for whatever cause they’d believed in strongly enough to grow desperate and violent over. But Ryou didn’t feel it. He didn’t care. And he knew that set him apart from his twin. Neither one of them enjoyed hurting others - but Taka actually felt bad about it afterward. Ryou flexed his aching hands and stepped over the bodies in the room to wait in the hallway. Not because the bodies bothered him - but because people he considered family had seen them and now they’d know. Ryou didn’t consider himself a monster - he just didn’t stand up to Taka’s example.

Pidge came out first, still looking pissed at being stymied for those few tics of signal jamming and Ryou didn’t even have to guess to know she was already plotting upgrades to all the communications equipment. She saw him leaned against the wall, arms loosely crossed and immediately scooted over to lean into him. He knew he was considered a bit more - teddy bear worn and easier to initiate touch with than Taka and he’d carried Pidge back to her bedroom and tucked her in now so many times after he’d found her passed out at her console that he was pretty sure she was comfortable with him by now but he also suspected it was her way of letting him know they were still okay.

It was a little alarming that she’d realize he needed that. But it also took some of the fear out of him. He intentionally leaned a fraction too much weight back on her and she grunted and elbowed him. After a minute, she said:

“Shiro doesn’t have his bayard. Zarkon still has it. It’s not fair. But, you know, maybe a bayard doesn’t have to be a thing. Maybe sometimes it can be a person.”

Before Ryou could shot her a surprised look, she was pushing away, embarrassed to be caught offering emotional shoring and flapped a hand at him.

“Not that I’m saying you can’t be a tool sometimes - “

Taka walked out to catch Ryou putting a protesting and blisteringly threatening Pidge in a headlock and just shook his head before giving his brother an easy clap on the shoulder and heading down the hall.

“Save it for later, you two. Let’s get back to the Castle.”

And - maybe - it really was just that easy.

Maybe it wasn’t.

But maybe it was going to be okay to figure it out. Together.


End file.
